First Time
by lazysprawl
Summary: Hitsugaya can't help but to stare at her in wonder, at the girl he's known for all of his life looking so delicate, so afraid of his touch. Hinamori/Hitsugaya.


**First Time  
**lazysprawl

The first time her robes fall off her shoulders in front of him, it's more out of regret than anything else. When he slides a hand across her collarbone then underneath the cloth of her kimono, something screams in her mind (—_no, no, this isn't Captain Aizen_—), and she fidgets, closing her eyes and pulling back. After all these years, she still can't bring herself to move on, but she's trying, _he's_ trying, they're _both_ trying, but they both know that he'll always be there in the back of her mind, ten years or a hundred years into the future.

"You know," she whispers after a few moment's worth, "I l—"

And he doesn't want to hear it, the sound of her voice saying those three words. Don't say it, _don't_, he calmly repeats mentally, and he pushes her down onto the floor, pinning her tiny little wrist down and pressing his lips against hers, hands sliding down in between her thighs because right now, he wants to make her forget. Her ineffectual struggle against him eventually stops, her protests eventually coming to a halt; when he releases his grip on her, she can only look away from him, and he wonders if she's doing this in apology or out of scorn.

In turn, Hitsugaya can't help but to stare at her in wonder, at the girl he's known for all of his life looking so delicate, so _afraid_ of his touch; he waits just a couple of seconds before reaching out to brush the stray strands of hair that's covering her eyes.

When his fingers lightly brush against her forehead, Hinamori flinches; his fingers are cold (—_Captain Aizen's was always warm to touch_—) but there's a sense of familiarity about it that she doesn't struggle with it anymore. And when he presses himself in her, she can't help but wince and wrap her arms around him, burying her head in his shoulders, biting her lower lip because it's the first time she's let anyone touch her, because she knows he's always been there for her, and because she has faith that he'll always be there for her. But at the same time, she can't help but to think about him—

(—_he always smelled like lilies on a rainy day_—)

—and she feels like her guilt is eating her up from the inside, because the man that she was still ever so infatuated with was gone, gone forever, but she still thought about him day and night, wondering what could have been if he had never left. Because she was wondering about the man that she had never known to begin with, when there was someone who had always been by her side, who had always been waiting for her to notice after all these years, who had always held steadfast faith in her when even she had no faith in herself.

So instead, she tries not to think about it, focusing on not making a sound because she doesn't want to tell him that it _hurts_. And when she accidentally lets out a quiet whimper while tensing into a innocent and tight hug against him, he nuzzles the arc of her neck, murmuring calming words into her ear (—_his voice was softer, too_—) all the while she tries to forget, _forget everything_.

Hitsugaya knows what she's thinking because she won't look at him in the eye, and when he feels tears rubbing against his shoulder, he can't help but to wrap his arms around her tiny, delicate form and pull her in a gentle hug.

And when he does, Hinamori curls her hands up into tight fists, almost pushing him away at first but instead, letting her arms soak up the warmth of his chest. And she can't help but to think,

(—_oh, this can't be Hitsugaya-kun, his hands are cold but his chest is warm_—)

So she closes her eyes, taking a quiet, deep breath as she presses her forehead against his chest. His touch is unfamiliar but all at the same time, there's a sense of familiarity that she welcomes, letting it take over her.

Yes, maybe... just maybe from now on, she can start forgetting.

* * *

I can never write these two together in an intimate situation. They're like two-years old. ;o;


End file.
